


In The Footsteps of Giants

by galiifreywolf



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Human, Drama, Engineering, Eventual Romance, F/M, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, ITS ABOUT THE YEARNING, Light Angst, NASA, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science, Slow Burn, Space Flight, This is a love letter to every lil spacecraft the human race has ever flown, a little bit ok it's part of the vibe, aerospace, alternate universe - NASA, and also a love letter to the entire space program, astrobiology, in which the author copes with a lot of emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galiifreywolf/pseuds/galiifreywolf
Summary: Millions have dared to dream bigger, to strive toward solving the world’s greatest technical challenges. Thousands have stepped through the gates to NASA’s launch causeway, and given their all in the name of advancing science. Mere hundreds have had the supreme honor of being tasked with dreaming the next impossible dream.One of those lucky souls is Dr. John Smith - the lead astrobiologist working on the Harmony project in Cape Canaveral, a mission to send the first astronauts to Jupiter’s moon Europa in the quest for first contact. But even as he thinks all his wildest dreams are coming true, his world begins to turn upside down when he meets mission media correspondent Rose Tyler. Is the goal only about the mission? Or is this only the first step in something much more incredible?
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 65
Kudos: 74





	1. As Steel Carves Through Starlight - Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To engineer a spacecraft is to dream a dream - one built on hopes and passion, on friendship and love, on terror and wonder. As Cooper so wisely said in Interstellar - our greatest accomplishments cannot be behind us, because our destiny lies above us.
> 
> ~Listen Along~  
> [All Systems Go - The Launch || James Horner (Apollo 13 Sountrack)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fra-m7RNMrU)
> 
> ~Notes at the end have some science links to show you more about what this mission is like!~

_Prologue _

Summer in the Florida marshlands hangs heavy, thick with humidity and anticipation. Sulky purple towers of storm clouds sleep on the horizon, sliced by golden rays of sun late into the evening hours. It is truly a quiet place - unless you know where to listen.

One small island outcropping in particular can always be found teeming with life - of crickets chirping, of vultures squawking, of waves crashing, of engines roaring, of steel soaring.

At sea level, it is the closest place in the world to the heavens.

For over a hundred years, this tiny strip of land has represented many of the finest dreams the human race has dared to dream - to reach for the stars and seek out the mysteries of the great beyond. Millions have dared to dream bigger, to strive toward solving the world’s greatest technical challenges. Thousands have stepped through the gates to the launch causeway and given their all in the name of advancing science. Mere hundreds have had the supreme honor of being tasked with dreaming the next impossible dream.

It is the early hours of dawn in August of 2061 when just three people begin a new journey into the greatest depths of space, yet untouched by humankind, from NASA’s Pad 39-A in Cape Canaveral.

_T plus forty-eight seconds.  
Crew has passed maximum dynamic pressure._

The flight officer bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut as the mach cone shockwave finally dissipates around the vehicle, and the shaking stops. It’s her first flight, and nothing has ever looked more terrifying yet more beautiful than the black arc of deep space now coming into view over Earth’s crystal-blue atmosphere.

_Main engine cut-off, T plus four minutes and thirty seconds.  
Rassilon booster stage separation is a go._

From the ground, a young mission correspondent loses her train of thought mid-sentence, letting her microphone slip from her hand in awe as the crew shuttle becomes a pinprick against the sky.

_Seventeen minutes into flight.  
Starting second phase coast roll._

The propulsion captain stands arm in arm with his team, cheering and shouting at the sky. The last remnants of red-gold flames lick at the pink dawn, and the ship vanishes from sight.

He’s not sure how long he had been holding his breath, until it all releases at once.

_And, thirty-one minutes into flight, we have spacecraft separation.  
Harmony, on course for rendezvous with Freedom at lunar orbit. Godspeed._

In mission control, the flight director collapses back into his chair, scrubbing both hands over his tear-streaked face, nervous laughter slowly turning joyful.

There are few days for celebration quite like this one. But the journey is only beginning, with years of flight ahead for the Harmony voyage.

~+~+~+~+~

Since the Apollo days, the iconic shape of the crew capsule has been a mainstay of space exploration, its conical silhouette a reassuring constant throughout every space program endeavor.

Never before has a moon of Jupiter been seen from a little capsule window, though. Until now.

~+~+~+~+~

The Lunar Gateway gleams in the sunlight as the Harmony ship approaches. Hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, the leader of crew operations shivers in her chair, clutching a fresh cup of coffee to hold her through the 3 am spacecraft-to-spacecraft docking maneuver.

She hardly needs the coffee, but old comforts die hard.

The habitation module and Freedom flight tug vehicle appear motionless as the Harmony ship matches its velocity for rendezvous. The breathtaking metallic dance is one of life or death, hinging on fractions of centimeters far beyond her grasp.

She can’t help but cry when the final sign-off call is sent.

_Harmony and Freedom, on course for gravity assist at Mars._

~+~+~+~+~

_Ten months into flight, how are we feeling on this fine Martian morning?_

The message from Houston is crackly with interference from the Bowie Base One operations. The senior flight engineer smiles to herself - she had never once dreamed that she’d be in Martian orbit for her birthday. After the first leg of the journey, a chance to dock with the orbital resupply station is a most welcome change of pace.

Unbuckling from her seat to float a few feet to the capsule window, she imagines that Adelaide Brooke herself is waving from the other porthole, across the rust-red horizon.

Tomorrow, she’ll realize she didn’t have to imagine, and mission control pops a bottle of champagne at the top of the hour to celebrate the milestone with the crew, 55 million kilometers away.

~+~+~+~+~

_Happy New Years from Earth, Harmony. We have you set for rendezvous with Europa in 5 more sidereal days. The team sends their best wishes!_

The flight captain counts asteroid chunks out the window, breathing slowly, deeply. The universe looks so different this far away from home. The colors of Jupiter seem deeper, every photon of light scattering off the faint ring around the massive planet more harshly than any reflection on Earth.

Each second is a gift. He knows better than to take it for granted. Pulling out his sketchpad, he begins to weave a tale of beauty for the media team when they finally receive the message.

~+~+~+~+~

In the ice-bitten days of January in 2064, the original launch team finds themselves reunited in a large, mahogany-clad conference room from an age of memories long past. Whispers and murmurs of legends and heroes follow them through the halls.

One astrobiologist skates his fingers across a large framed photo on the wall, filled with a dozen cheery faces, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Family does not end with liftoff, but it does make reunions all the sweeter.

The program manager can’t help but squeeze him into a hug, when she finally pushes her way through the throng of engineers.

“You’ll want to see this,” she whispers.

~+~+~+~+~

The flight control room holds their breath as the two make their way to the largest display screen.

“Harmony, this is Cape Canaveral, do you read?”

_Loud and clear, control. I hope the cameras are running on your end._

The astrobiologist’s brow is furrowed, his gaze wild and frenzied around the room, daring not hope the moment has finally arrived.

On the crackling broadcast above, three astronauts float gently mid-cabin, each holding a glass vial. It doesn’t need to be high-definition to see their smiles are the brightest in the solar system.

_We thought you’d want to be the first to see. You wanted to name them, after all!_

The young flight engineer holds her vial up to the lens. Tiny, silvery-green jellyfish-like creatures whirl and float aimlessly in the absence of gravity.

He isn’t able to even speak for the next half an hour, let alone think of a name for the first life found on another world.

~+~+~+~+~

His fiancée holds his hand tightly on the thin, winding drive down the island to their hotel.

Words are hardly necessary, but she surprises him when she breaks the silence. She’s always been good at that.

“Do you remember that summer?”

He glances over at her, smiling softly.

“Rose Tyler. How on earth could I forget?”

Tonight, they take a moment to sit at their favorite bar and remember how it all began, so many years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, endlessly, for taking a moment to stop here and read this first small step for fic, one giant leap for the author!
> 
> Huge thank you to my dear [Tiana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanalosswen/pseuds/Vanalosswen) for being my second set of eyes, and thank you to the entire Discord family for supporting me to get to this point. This story wouldn't exist without you.
> 
> Truly, though, this story has been in the works for 6 months on paper, and nearly 2 years in my head. This will be a hell of an engineering story - it's a lot of "sci" with a good does of "fi," but truly, if you enjoy accurate science fiction, I have literally made this almost entirely true, as it stands in 2021-engineering terms. 
> 
> And... there's a few big grains of truth in this. It means more than words to share it with y'all.
> 
> Chapter 1 will be up on January 21, jumping into the main story a few months before the historic launch! This is where the fun truly begins.
> 
> **Want to read more about the real science in this story?**  
> [Why So Accurate? A note from the author (Tumblr)](https://galiifreywolf.tumblr.com/post/640000117984903168/authors-note-in-the-footsteps-of-giants-the)  
> [All the science behind this chapter (Tumblr)](https://galiifreywolf.tumblr.com/post/640000868441292800/1-the-science-behind-the-story-as-steel-carves)


	2. Two Steps from Out the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And thus our story begins, with an astrobiologist, a goal, and a place built for realizing far-flung dreams. With only a few months until the launch of Crew Ship Harmony, the NASA-ESA joint mission to explore Jupiter’s moon Europa, Dr. John Smith has been asked to fly from his home site in England to Kennedy Space Center in Florida support the final stages of launch preparation. Sometimes, though, incredible adventures have very unexpected starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to keep acronyms to a minimum, but some make way more sense than writing things out repeatedly. So for a quick reference:  
> VAB - Vehicle Assembly Building. It's the big famous NASA one with the logo on the side ([picture](https://ca-times.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/4c623fc/2147483647/strip/true/crop/2000x1169+0+0/resize/840x491!/quality/90/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fcalifornia-times-brightspot.s3.amazonaws.com%2Ffd%2Fd1%2F2c06522f5fca90e8f55c17ef0cf8%2Fla-trb-florida-kennedy-space-center-20140121-001))  
> ESA - European Space Agency
> 
> If you'd like to listen along, I've got some songs for this chapter! If you only listen to one, PLEASE listen to The Love (third song) when John leaves the badging office (about halfway through). I promise it's worth it.  
> 1\. [The God of Loss - Darlingside ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4DoFXGBkcYM)  
> 2\. [Singularity - Darlingside](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KTjB741Bis)  
> 3\. [The Love - Con Bro Chill ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSNnOmBzeLA)
> 
> [Full playlist (for the whole fic) is on YouTube!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdZhlIKWGIE&list=PLeAqzMO0SBKoG5u-2WM71YASgNWqyikyz)

_**May 2061  
T-16 weeks to Harmony Launch  
Final Vehicle Integration** _

The plane jostled aggressively as United Air Flight 3830 met the earth once again, after a long journey over the Atlantic ocean. Several startled, bleary, disoriented faces took in their surroundings for the first time in a few hours. Most passengers simply stayed asleep; no amount of turbulence could shake the weariness that comes with a red-eye flight from Heathrow to Orlando International.

Lynda Moss wished she was one of those people.

The sharp-faced blonde re-adjusted her U-shaped neck pillow, trying to lean back and catch even just two minutes of sleep before having to get off the aircraft. It was going to be a long day of marketing meetings, and she was dreading every moment in her current miserable state.

Before putting her earbud back in, she snuck a squinting peek back at the ridiculous man sitting in the window seat - the man who’d kept her awake for the last _thirteen_ hours. At long last, he had finally fallen asleep with his face pressed uncomfortably against the side of the window - must have been watching the clouds go by, when he finally dozed off.

At least he was interesting, she supposed. Could have been stuck next to Mr. Hedge Fund in the next row up. All this wiry, bright-smiled bloke had wanted to do was talk about the space films available in the in-flight entertainment roster. _Apollo 13, Interstellar, The Martian,_ even _Space Odyssey 2001_ \- he’d narrated them all, picked out all the little scientific details, and gone on a full-blown rant about the sheer _genius_ of “those brilliant fellows in Houston fixing the CO2 scrubber with nothing but some tubes and spare duct tape.”

The plane jostled again as the skybridge latched onto the front door, shaking Lynda back to the present. The fasten-seat-belt sign flickered off, and the exhausted population of the plane shifted to gather their carry-ons and escape the stale-aired cabin. Lynda carefully shook the man’s shoulder.

“Hey, mate - the plane’s landed, up you get.”

With a grimace, the man finally came-to, blinking repeatedly and stretching down into his seat - pushing his too-long-for-economy-class legs all the way under the seat in front of him.

“Blimey, Orlando already? Must have dozed off-” he mumbled. He cracked his neck, stretched his arms up to brush the top of the cabin, and before Lynda could blink again, his cheery grin and boundless enthusiasm had returned, and he made his way out into the aisle.

In the glare of all the cabin lights, Lynda finally got a better look at her odd flight partner. Sharp brown suit, blue pinstripes. Scuffed, off-white sandshoes. An elegant swirly silk tie, slightly askew. She couldn’t help but chuckle when he stretched up to pull his battered leather briefcase from the far end of the overhead compartment, and a little astronaut waved hello from his printed socks.

“Sorry, did you say something?”

Lynda started, realizing Pinstripes had turned to face her, his face the picture of boyish innocence.

“No, not at all I- great choice in socks, s’all,” she grinned, gesturing at his feet. “You and your space enthusiasm, it’s really something. I’m guessing you’re here to visit the space center then yeah, get the full tour?”

The man barked a laugh and swung his bag over his shoulder, following Lynda as they were pushed forward down the aisle. “You could say that, yeah.”

“Ooh, you’ve heard about Harmony then, I bet? The Europa exploration mission? Margaret - friend of mine, out this end of the business - she can’t ever stop talking about it. I can’t believe they’re actually going to send people out to face alien life head-on like that! Seems like they’ve got a new wacky theory every week. Latest bloke they’ve got is supposed to be an expert on whatever they found out there, absolutely barmy that is.”

The man waggled his eyebrows and gave Lynda a little wave with his free hand.

“Mmm, yup. Mind you, they did _not_ give me much notice to pack.”

Lynda’s jaw fell open, sputtering her disbelief.

“What are you on about mate?”

He stepped off the plane, handed her a business card with a genuine smile, and winked.

“It was Lynda right? Lynda with a y,” he said, letting the L’s roll off his tongue like a little song, “Dunno how long you’re in town, but if you can, you should really come visit the coast too. Loads of excitement to be had!”

And with that, he was off running towards the terminal, an excited “Allons-y!” echoing off the metal walls of the bridge.

Lynda looked back down at the bit of cardstock in her hands. Mr. Pinstripes’ credentials were emblazoned in bright red text next to the famous blue NASA meatball logo.

Dr. John Smith, PhD  
Europa Harmony Expedition - Instrumentation and Scientific Payload Lead  
Oxford Commission for Astrobiology and Exploration  
National Aeronautics and Space Administration - European Space Agency

~+~+~+~+~

John’s stiff legs ached and groaned with each bouncing step through the terminal, his shirt slowly glueing itself to his back under the oppressive summer heat. Yet the smile adorning his face was that of pure euphoria - elation was far too small a word to describe what he was feeling on this particular morning.

A long trek across the main travel hub and a pair of rental car keys later, John stepped out into the dense Florida air. The adrenaline humming in his veins was soothed a bit by the humid, soft breeze, rich with the scent of dense foliage and saltwater. It had a liveliness, a refreshingness about it that he had never experienced back home in London.

John tugged at his tie a bit to loosen the shirt collar and catch some reprieve from the heat as he continued up the last set of stairs to the parking structure. The painted lines on the ground led him in circles a few times before finally arriving at the little Hyundai he would call his, for the next few months. _Business perks, it never quite gets old_ , he grinned to himself.

A waddling, bright red figure cleared his throat loudly across the echoing garage.

“Hey buddy, you need directions?”

“Ah, yes. Right. Directions! Blimey - too long a day. I’m headed to, erm. NASA. What city is NASA in again?”

The rental car agent sighed with a knowing smile, looking John up and down - rumpled suit, minimal luggage, and hair standing up on all ends.

“Yeah, I figured as much. I swear, every one of you engineers looks alike.”

John started, shaking his head, eyebrows drawn together pleadingly.

“I’m not, I’m not… I’m not an engineer,” he sputtered, but the attendant had already launched into the (rather complicated) directions to escape the maze of the Orlando airport parking garage, through the city, and out to the coast. Cape Canaveral, 45 miles due east.

~+~+~+~+~

The long, straight road connecting Orlando to Cape Canaveral was far from scenic. Huge, sprawling willows and marsh grass crept up the sides of the road, but otherwise, it was nothing but the bright sky and rough pavement.

It was not a road that seems to hold much promise at all. At least, not until crossing the Atlantic Coast Highway 1.

Change arrived suddenly and dramatically. One moment, the world was nothing but greenery to all sides, and straight, dull pavement. Then, it was curving roads, bluer skies, and heavier ocean clouds. It was brighter sunlight, and wider horizons. True wonder arrived when the land abruptly fell away, leaving only a thin swath of road cutting cleanly through azure waters, with the iconic sight of the monolithic Vehicle Assembly Building and the launch towers straight ahead.

John could feel his pulse in his hands as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, in near disbelief at the scene unfolding before him. After so many years in this field, it was impossible not to recognize the monolithic landmarks, even as specks on the horizon in the blinding morning light.

At that moment, he was six years old again, watching the last Commercial Crew vehicles launch into the spotless Cape Canaveral sky through the glowing screen of his family’s small television. The memories rushed through his mind like a film reel - ten years old and playing ‘Mission Control’ with his father’s wireless headset - thirteen years old and pouring over books about rockets - fifteen years old and building his first LEGO robot - eighteen years old and starting his degree at Oxford - twenty-seven years old and getting his first proper grant from NASA to continue his research.

Now thirty-two years old, and the stars were no longer so far out of reach.

_In 2.1 miles, your destination is on the right._

John snapped back to attention as the GPS cut through his reverie, leading him up the massive drawbridge on the river and down the other half of the causeway. Closer to the main attraction now, he realized some of the tall silhouettes up the road were rockets, of every shape and size, clustered together like a little garden. Tour buses passed in and out like caterpillars, shuffling all of the eager vacationers in and out of the gates.

A tiny, unassuming building stood just beyond the massive, imposing visitor center, next to an old Mercury launch vehicle. Cars flooded the parking lot - it was 9:50 am local time, John realized with some pain - the only thing that managed to get him these 50-some-odd miles to the coast was caffeine, raw adrenaline, and a tiny cheese toastie from the airport cafe. The ache of glaring sunlight and his hunger were catching up to him, and heavens knew he and red tape were not good friends.

John gracefully spun the wheel, and swung the agile little rental car into the nearest parking spot. At once, the tension released from his body, and he slumped back against the seat for a moment.

 _Just a moment…_ he mused dreamily, soaking in the warmth of the summer sun through the windshield, head lolling back, lips parting, his eyes half-closing into the start of an impromptu nap. It was so quiet here, after the bustle of the airport, and he felt so very relaxed...

Seventeen minutes later, John abruptly jolted back awake.

“No, no no no no, the appointment --” he reached over to the passenger seat and frantically pulled open his briefcase, papers tumbling out onto the seat and the floor. He scrabbled through the mess - _passport, uni badge, visa, what am I forgetting, sod the paperwork_ \- then gathered up all his necessary belongings into a shoddy heap in his arms, slung his messenger back over his shoulder, and strode into the building.

~+~+~+~+~

NASA, John was quickly realizing, for all it’s amazing accolades, was no better than any other organization he’d worked with when it came to the bureaucratic side of things. In a gray room, with darker gray walls, accented only by tan upholstery, people milled around quietly with an unspoken air of impatience. With a loud crumpling noise, John pushed all his papers from one arm to the other - resolutely ignoring the few older men shooting him questioning looks - and took a numbered ticket. 57. He looked up at the digital counter, rolling his eyes when it still read 26.

 _Come on John, it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. Minor damper on the first day of the best few months of your life,_ he thought to himself, smiling softly. John made his way to a seat in the front corner of the room, eager to catch up on the hundreds of emails he was inevitably ignoring.

His forced smile quickly faded into a frown, however, when he pulled his laptop out of the bag and clicked the power button. He knew the machine was charged. So why wasn’t it turning on?

A cold sense of panic rose in his chest a little bit - he was already late to the office because of his own childish excitement and not sleeping on the flight, now he might not even be _useful_ until he could get inside and get himself sorted. He plugged the laptop back in on the off-chance it would help, and waited with bated breath.

No result.

John snarled, pounding his fist against the top of the machine.

“Started counting those lucky stars too early…”

The queue passed slowly. John found himself drinking a second little can of Starbucks Doubleshot Espresso, by 75 minutes into the wait. One or two timid interns attempted to strike up conversation, reminding John fondly of himself when he had started with the European Space Agency so many years ago.

Finally, the lady at the counter called out his number, and John ambled to the counter with all his papers in tow.

“Good morning sir, how can we help you this morning,” she chirped - quite chipper for the drudging job she had to put up with.

“Hello, yes - I’m here from Oxford’s Exobiology Exploration Commission for a few months to support the Harmony launch,” he beamed back, thrilled to even hear the words passing his lips. He shuffled through the stack of paper, placing his passport and a few printed email correspondences on the counter between them.

The fire-haired woman - Amy, according to her tiny light-blue name tag - snagged one of the printed emails first and held it to eye level, squinting at the paper.

“Is she your main contact? Harriet Jones?”

Still holding the sheet, she turned to punch a few key words into the computer next to her.

“Yes, Harriet’s the program manager, yes,” John tugged at his ear, uneasy at the extra question. “Simply said I need to show up here before I can go to the office.”

“Hmm. Well, typically general attendance visitors are required to fill out a badge request form, a background check, a program purpose summary…”

John’s vacant stare told her everything she needed to know.

Amy closed her eyes and blew out a breath, “Your team should have sent you some paperwork to fill out before your arrival. There is a pre-screening process on our end, before we can admit people on site, especially when coming from abroad. I’m afraid without that, I won’t be able to issue you an all-access badge, the best I can do is escort-only.”

The knot in John’s stomach tightened, a sickly feeling washing over him. An _escort?_ The promise of new dreams and freedom felt like it was evaporating, and that the next few months would be nothing but a logistical nightmare.

Amy shifted back and forth uncomfortably, as John remained silent at the desk. Attempting to comfort him, she started again, choosing her words carefully.

“I can run a search separate from the specific program, if you want, what was your name again?”

Voice growing ever quieter and shifting his weight from side to side, he did not meet her gaze this time.

“John, Dr. John Smith.”

Her hands froze on the keyboard. Paralysis shot down John’s spine, until the woman began to laugh.

“You really could have led with that!,” she laughed, finishing her inputs to the machine with a few sharp taps. “They’ve been expecting _you_ for a while now.”

The counter swam a bit in John’s vision, forcing him to grip the edge and laugh along, as the tension flooded from his body and left him wobbly-kneed. One photo, ten signatures, and two official stamps later, John thanked his new friend at badging profusely, and raced back out the front doors to follow some other Harmony employees out to the facility.

~+~+~+~+~

Admittedly, as John drove past the guard tower and into the campus, John wasn’t _entirely_ sure where the office was. His sparsely-populated napkin map left something to be desired, and he had never been the best with arriving in the right place at the right time to begin with. The caravan of other employees he was following seemed to know, though, and he followed them down the off-ramp to a set of lights, then turned under a bridge to drive up a long, wide road.

A long, wide road that went _directly_ up to the Vehicle Assembly Building.

It was a scene reserved for the silver screen, this up-close-and-personal view of the most historic building in humanity’s space endeavors. The building's tall, square silhouette cleaved through the soft edges of the horizon, the bright blue and red NASA logo a beacon in the sky. Mere hours ago, John had watched these same roads as pixels on a tiny screen, enraptured, not once even daring to hope that he’d get to see it so soon with his own two eyes.

John let out a triumphant shout, tears suddenly stinging the tired corners of his eyes, threatening to run down his face. He pressed the gas pedal farther to the floor, feeling as though he too might lift off this runway of sorts on the wings of a dream.

After all these years of working on this mission, it suddenly felt viscerally real. It was as though he’d been working on some hypothetical, some intangible concept - as though he was looking upon it with clear eyes for the first time in his life.

It had been years of sitting behind a desk, running models, dreaming impossible new dreams; years of working long hours for little fanfare and even less funding; years of extra reading and an all-consuming devotion to this little Jovian moon - and at last, it had all paid off. This had always been the most far-flung hope of all, to even catch one glimpse of mission control while his life’s work was sent onward to the heavens, to see that fire burning under the rocket with his own eyes.

His heart clenched, as he continued up the road. _This is where the last of the Space Shuttles once drove along, that’s why the two roads are spaced out this way, for the crawler to carry the dream to the launch pad. The desks of the Artemis and Dragon astronauts are still enshrined in these buildings, in their memory._

With that thought came the heart-racing, limb-numbing realization that he, John Smith, had _made it_. In the epicenter of greatness, walking in the footsteps of giants.

And the other cars were still driving.

Still driving straight up the road.

_Why aren’t they turning in to the main office complex, where are we going--_

John made a strangled noise, eyes nearly bugging out of his skull as they passed by the side of the VAB. He knew it’d be massive - they assemble rockets inside, for God’s sake - but 60-some-odd stories is a hard thing to envision. The building towered into the sky, the massive gray garage-door panels jutting out proudly. Buzzards swooped on the updrafts created by the sheer height of the structure, floating high enough to be specks in the sky.

The road made a sharp right, winding behind the massive building. This time John actually yelled, his features scrunched together in incredulity.

“WHAT?”

Assembly for the Harmony ship - apparently - was taking place in the old Orbiter Processing Facility - the home of Atlantis and Discovery, of Orion and Starliner. The home of Bowie Flight One, the first-ever Mars-bound capsule that humans ever took beyond the little blue marble of Earth.

And, starting now, the home of a very humbled John Smith.

The parking lot was already crowded, given how late in the work day it was, so John snuck in along the back row where the half-meter-tall grass was threatening to creep into the parking space. For a bustling science facility, the atmosphere was the epitome of tranquility. Space met earth in this nature preserve, where the chirp of frogs mixed with the soft sound of waves hitting sand.

~+~+~+~+~

It was noon, by this point, and John was well beyond famished. He shuffled his way through the front doors and into the open-plan office’s break room, unceremoniously deposited himself into one of the vinyl-coated couches, and pulled his last (very smashed) granola bar out of his pocket. He simply stared into the distance as he ate, unable to comprehend the incredible rollercoaster the day had been so far.

“Oh my GOD, JOHN!” a voice shrieked, and John immediately shot back up, beaming. He’d know that voice anywhere, after all the calls they’d had over the years.

“Martha Jones, I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am to see you,” John said, absolutely glowing. The smartly-dressed woman rushed over to gather him into a hug, which he gleefully reciprocated. “Ohh, you would not believe the day I’ve had. I think I’ve been awake for… 31 hours?”

Martha laughed, looking at him incredulously, “well, I’ll say! It’s not like you to not at _least_ answer my texts!”

The doctor looked away sheepishly, his arm sneaking up behind his head to scratch his neck.

“Got a bit excited, can’t say my mobile was the top of my priorities with--” he gestured generally at all their surroundings with his free hand. “Also my computer is, erm. A bit kaput, at the moment. No email.”

“John Smith, head in the stars, same as always,” Martha chuckled. “Right then, IT is our first stop, get you back in business, yeah?”

John immediately began to protest. “Martha, I am perfectly capable of fixing my own devices, how many times have I--”

“How many times have you destroyed small innocent electronics because they looked intriguing?” Martha cut him off with a smirk, “John, just let someone else deal with it for once. You’re exhausted, yeah? Nab a desk and go get checked into your hotel. You’re worse than useless when you’re grumpy.”

Pouting, John wandered away from the little cafeteria to try and find a good place to work. The office was bright and welcoming, with several of the white walls painted in mellow blue and green. Rather than a traditional network of high-walled drab cubicles, the desks sprawled in all directions in an open-layout, relaxed design.

Dual monitors all over the room displayed vibrant computer-modelled mechanical parts and abstract-looking graphs. Several desks had two or three people gathered around, pointing animatedly at details on the screen or rambling about test results. Tinny 2000’s music from one lady’s tiny radio mingled with the low din of voices. In the glass-walled meeting rooms, engineers surrounded by soda bottles and Skittles wrappers argued over blueprints.

It was truly unlike any office John had ever seen - not a 9-to-5 prison, but a living, breathing, passion-infused holy ground.

Martha returned shortly with a clean-shaven man in a pomegranate-pink shirt and waistcoat, who was pushing a cart full of computer hardware.

“Ianto is going to get you squared away, yeah? Just… let him do his job and don’t stick your fingers in his work,” Martha said softly, tilting her head and giving him a knowing look. John simply rolled his eyes, sat back into the rolling office chair, and plonked his feet on the desk.

Ianto hooked the computer up to a power block sitting in his cart, and hit the hard-reset button on the back of the machine. The dreaded blue screen appeared on the laptop, indicating a fatal error in the software.

“I’ll need to spend a few minutes running diagnostics, if you have anything else you need to attend to,” Ianto said to John, still looking at the computer. A yawn snuck out of John instead of the words he was hoping to say.

Ianto’s perfectly-professional demeanor softened a bit, and cracked a grin at him. “Long day?”

“Last time I was asleep, it was in my own bed in Twickenham,” John crowed.

Minutes dragged on like hours, as Ianto made several attempts at recovering the struggling laptop. At least one eternity later, Ianto murmured something about getting a new power bank, and slipped away to the back hall storage room.

John tried to wait patiently.

Exhaustion, when left long enough, evolves into electric antsiness - the kind of exhaustion that no longer feels like sleepiness, but like pure concentrated energy, instead.

If anyone asked, he did not push any buttons on the laptop when Ianto was away.

(The full-volume, screeching dial tone the computer answered him with may have indicated otherwise.)

It wasn’t long before the whole office had stood from their desks and opened their conference room doors to see what the ruckus was - and a man in a suit smothering a computer with a Florida State sweatshirt from a nearby desk was likely not _at all_ what anyone expected.

Ianto came sprinting back around the corner, eyes alight with alarm as John wrung his hands.

“Ianto, was it? Ianto, would you be a good man and this machine as _far away from here as humanly possible_?” John asked pleadingly, as the noise shattered his headache into a million painful fragments inside his head. Ianto, realizing there wasn’t much else of a choice anyway, quickly dumped the computer (sweatshirt and all) into the cart, and quickly made his way down one of the more isolated hallways.

John plastered a smile back onto his face and took a sweeping look across the multitude of people still staring at him. Pushing his unease back down, he slid his hands into his pockets and rocked forward onto the balls of his feet.

“Right then! Talk about an introduction. I’m the Doctor - Doctor John Smith.” A quiet murmur passed through some of the other employees. “Flight instrumentation, exobiology, and astrodynamics. For Harmony, of course.”

A split second of awkward silence passed, before a loud, confident voice cut through the room.

“Well, if you plan for your stay here in Cape Canaveral to be as dazzling as your entrance, then I think you’re going to fit in just fine, Doc.”

John turned to follow the voice, his open-mouthed smile now one of honest, gleeful curiosity. A tall, strongly-built man with a square jaw and dazzling smile was making his way over to John’s desk.

John eyed him up and down and pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. _Steel-toed boots, static-discharge wrist strap, goggles tucked into his pocket, but he’s clearly up here with a 3D computer model open…_

The man came right up to John, standing squarely in front of him, and _saluted_ , of all things.

“Jack Harkness, propulsion lead for Harmony.”

_...engineer. Knew it._

Embarrassed, John waved his hand, praying Jack would change to a normal greeting.

“Propulsion engineering - so, you’re working under…?” he raised one eyebrow, still trying to figure out what his first impression was of Jack.

“None other than Harriet Jones herself. We like to keep the org chart simple around here,” Jack said warmly, relaxing back into a more normal stance. “Heard plenty about you, of course, what with the teams being structured the way they are. Gotta say, _nice_ work with that magno-bio sensor thing, I read your paper and it was absolutely crazy the way you used magnetometers to pick up the Europan bio-congregations below the ice, and tuning the settings to...”

The rest of the office had returned to their normal routine by now, perhaps a bit disappointed the spectacle had already passed. Peripherally, John knew his new coworker was still saying something about his astrobiology research, but his attention was rapidly fading.

“...anyway Doc, you look a bit peaky. There’s leftover BBQ downstairs if you want to swing by on the way into the lab? I presume that’s where you’re going, if you want someone to walk you down.”

“Only if you promise to never salute at me ever again.”

Jack saluted once more, and the two made their way down the stairs and into the epicenter of excitement - the production floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many people helped make this chapter sing in just the right way - [Cal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darundik/pseuds/darundik), [Tiana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanalosswen/pseuds/Vanalosswen), [Sae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saecookie/pseuds/Saecookie), especially - thank you for your endless support. I'd be lost without you.
> 
> I don't want to leave comments that will chase people off, but I feel obligated to say this is going to be very much a drama/action/adventure-of-sorts story where "friends to lovers" cannot possibly be more accurately tagged. I hope you'll enjoy, and thank you for reading :) <3
> 
> **  
> The Real Science Behind the Fic  
> **  
> [Learn more about the real places in this chapter and some NASA history! (Tumblr)](https://galiifreywolf.tumblr.com/post/640954759449346048/2-the-science-behind-the-story-two-steps-from)
> 
> Posted today specifically to commemorate a very, very special day of good memories.


	3. Harmony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Update 2/20/21:** I had a couple of run-on sentences and over-abundances of commas that were annoying me. No actual content has changed, just tried to make some things flow a bit better! :)
> 
> ~Listen Along~  
> [Trajectory Burn - Adam Young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phzyL9l8qSM)  
> [First Steps on the Surface - Adam Young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAEO6_ozRkM)  
> [Wings - Marcus Warner](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m147OQm47t4)
> 
> [Find the whole playlist for the entire fic HERE!](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLeAqzMO0SBKoG5u-2WM71YASgNWqyikyz)

_**May 2061** _  
_**T-16 weeks to Harmony Launch** _  
_**Final Vehicle Integration** _

John’s heart hammered loudly in his chest as he followed Jack through the security-locked double doors and into the logistics facility. Dimly-lit hallways stretched in every direction, winding their way to the far reaches of the production area. At the central hub where each hall connected, a large caged-off area with dozens of aisles of silver-bagged hardware was bustling with engineers, technicians, and managers. Every few feet on the cage walls, metal signs reading **QUALITY CONTROL - CLEARED PERSONNEL ONLY** glared down at anyone who dared pass by.  
Jack fell back a few paces to keep stride with John.

“So, logistics and quality control, off to your right-” he gestured to the wire doors at the front of the cage-walled room - “I’d avoid going in there unless you absolutely need to. Those poor saps in shipping and receiving are already slammed trying to get some critical replacement parts in for the electrical wiring. If the stuff you need isn’t already out in the build room, start praying to whatever you believe in. You’ll be waiting a while.”

John nodded along, craning his neck towards the room even as they left it behind. He had never seen so much flight-grade hardware all in one place before - coiled cables with shiny metal braiding, brackets of every shape and size, buckets on buckets of fancy nuts and bolts - even carefully-packaged solar cells and flight suit equipment. Already, he had at least three ideas for fun new contraptions he could be building with the shiny new hardware just out of reach.

“Hey, eyes forward!” Jack chuckled, as the doctor nearly walked into the next set of doors. The engineer tossed a white cleanroom coat over, which John narrowly caught with the edge of his fingers. As he tugged on the coat and fumbled for a pair of safety goggles, Jack pushed the final set of doors open with a dramatic flourish, opening the gates to an entirely new world. 

“Doctor John Smith, welcome to Highbay.”

~+~+~+~+~

Labs, John noted, all looked very similar; bright blue and yellow scaffolding painting splashes of color against an otherwise stark white room, harsh LED lights glaring from all sides and casting out shadows, hardware glittering like fine jewelry, and the constant whirring of heavy machinery blending together like an otherworldly orchestra. Here, in this hallowed hall, nuts, bolts, and sheet metal all joined together to become more than just a sum of their parts - to become part of a grand story.

John’s breath caught in his throat, a manic smile spreading across his face for the umpteenth time that day. It was impossible to look in any direction without feeling amazed and humbled. With hesitant steps, he approached the nearest engineering integration bench, not noticing in the slightest that Jack was walking the other direction. 

On the table, a large slate-gray control panel was propped up, commanding attention while waiting patiently for a technician to install the final knobs and switches. He’d only ever seen this hardware in computer models and vague schematics, and he certainly couldn’t say he knew the story behind the control panel’s design, nor the history of the countless buttons and toggles. 

What he did know, though, was that it felt strangely like meeting an old friend.

He caught his own face reflected in the central display screen - wild-haired, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and bright - and John realized that despite his exhaustion, this was probably the liveliest he’d looked in months. For just a moment, he let his fingers move of their own accord, ghosting a few inches above the cellophane-covered flight command joystick. 

“Oh, the wonders you’re going to see,” he murmured reverently, acutely aware that in mere weeks, another gloved hand would follow his exact motions, guiding the spaceship through a voyage to new worlds.

“Hey, that’s not your toy and you know it, come over here,” Jack called back over his shoulder, pointing ahead to the massive structure at the far end of the facility. 

Enshrined in two stories of scaffolding was the full Harmony capsule itself. Even scale-labelled diagrams could not do it justice - the spacecraft was _enormous_. 

The sleek white capsule was easily five or six meters tall and nearly as wide, judging by how tiny the technicians looked alongside it. From John’s vantage point, he fancied it looked a bit like a teardrop with the top cut off. At the top of the capsule, the domed flight cover had been removed, exposing the mechanical docking ring the ship would soon use to make port at the Lunar and Martian space bases. A series of six port holes were spaced evenly around the curved exterior, just above a trio of painted golden rings.

Squinting through the scaffolding, John could just barely make out glimpses of the smooth, blunt base of the ship. The disk-shaped heat shield designed to protect the ship from atmospheric reentry lay just below, nearly ready to be affixed to the capsule. 

About halfway up the curved face of the vehicle, just below the crew hatch, a few of the streamlined side panels had been removed to reveal the truss-like metal structure that made up the main body of the ship. Bundles of thick tubes hung out the open hatch, winding down the scaffolding and into a vent chamber. Several exposed hydraulic pipes had gauges hooked up to test ports, and a few technicians were carefully monitoring various fluid flow rates. 

_Anyone who says metal cannot have a soul clearly has never seen this ship,_ was all John had the ability to think, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets and striding over to stand at the foot of the structure. 

“That is _brilliant_ ,” he breathed out. It was a kind of beauty rarely seen up close - the kind forged in fire and never to be touched by bare human hands, something that felt otherworldly even before it had seen the sky.

Eyes still riveted to the spacecraft above their heads, John spoke softly, as though he stood at the foot of an altar instead of in a lab.

“Jack, have you seen that new show _The Vortex Chronicles_?”

Jack cocked his head to the side, looking confusedly at John.

“Uh… I have, why?”

“How is it that an actual spacecraft feels more surreal than a literal fiction program?”

Jack barked out a hearty laugh.

“I like you, Doc. You’re not as jaded as some of the guys who find their way in here. It’s refreshing. Keep that, you’re going to need it.”

John blinked a few times, sputtering in an attempt to process what Jack had said, as he turned his attention from the spacecraft back to the engineer.

“You mean to tell me some people aren’t absolutely blown away, no, honored, no--” he stopped, holding up his hand and glancing away as though the word he was looking for was somewhere along the back wall of the building, “-no no no, _thrilled_ to be a part of this endeavor? This love letter to human exploration, to curiosity? To the epitome of exploration and new discovery?”

Jack chuckled, clearly amused by John’s outburst.

“Nope, sorry. Anything seems mundane if you do it for long enough. Just because we build it here doesn't mean it's all gleaming metal and exciting tests - there’s paperwork and spreadsheets, and a hundred procedure checklists that drive the wonder right out of your head... Speaking of which, you haven’t caught up on your subsystem’s installation records for the past 48 hours, and it’s a doozy."

John groaned and rolled his eyes, scrubbing a hand through his hair. It had been easy to forget that he still had to fill out his time card with actual, productive working hours while he was wandering about a facility that looked like it had come right off the telly. 

“Alright, let’s see the damage.”

Jack pulled up a second chair for John and logged into the dual-screen computer on a card table nestled below the scaffolding.

“Mickey - the integration lead, if you haven’t met him already - has been out dealing with some launch vehicle adapter issues all day, and the installation of your little biosensor is now sitting in the critical path build plan for _my_ stuff. We can’t test fit the fuel line connections until all the instrumentation is closed out and secure. But hey!-” he clapped John on the shoulder- “that’s what you’re here for now! Same old fun to-do list, much less comfortable chair than your home office.”

John rolled his eyes at Jack, patting the other man’s hand before pushing it off his shoulder unceremoniously.

"Right. Suppose that's it, then," John sighed. "Thanks for showing me round and getting me set up, and if I can ever return the favor..."

“Now, don’t say that, you’ll _really_ regret it when I cash in,” Jack said as he gathered up his test equipment.

“Oh, and last thing, coffee is back out the main doors, down the hall and to the left.”

John grinned and gave a little two-finger salute back, mirroring the greeting from earlier, as Jack sauntered away.

With Jack’s departure, the fatigue and weight of the day settled back onto John’s shoulders. Fishing his glasses out of his pocket, he pushed them up the bridge of his nose, willing the fog of exhaustion to clear enough to catch up on the numerous urgent tasks ahead of him. Twenty eight emails ( _could be worse_ ) all demanded attention regarding the aforementioned biosensor, citing an installation error between the sensor’s data collection algorithm and the main spacecraft computer. 

“Blimey, don’t you people have better things to do than send annoying emails? Must’ve taken you longer to write the email than fix it yourselves,” he scoffed, shaking his head and turning away from the screen to flick through the file of installation records, non-conformance reports, and design schematics. The familiarity of the paperwork and hardware was soothing - a known quantity after a day of unexpected twists and turns. He slouched back in the chair, one leg up across the card table, tongue pressed to the edge of his teeth as he took in every minute detail of the task at hand.

To most people, investigative engineering analysis like this was tedious and exhausting, but for the doctor, it was a puzzle to be solved, a mystery to unravel, a prize to be won. Humming to himself, he clapped the file shut and set about rearranging the little workstation and making himself more at home. His already too-long day was only about to get longer, and he intended to make it as painless as possible.

“Right then! Troubleshoot the software, re-install the atmospheric signature optical connection, slap on the close-out protective panel, sign off on installation, and off we go. Molto bene!”

However, he was sure to follow Jack’s advice and find the coffee machine before even considering locating the software diagnostic tool.

~+~+~+~+~

John was, much to his dismay, hanging nearly upside-down in a technician harness alongside the Harmony capsule when Mickey Smith finally returned to the lab several hours later.

“Oi! Who the hell are you and wha' in God’s name do you think you’re doin’?!”

“Sorry, so sorry, this is not my day for introductions,” John squeaked, tightening the last bolt on the installation panel and swinging across the gap between the scaffolding landing and the spacecraft. He found himself eye-level with the stranger’s shoes, peering just above the thin sheet metal of the platform, the rest of his body obscured. 

“You’d better have a damn good reason for messin’ with the hardware when we ‘ave a critical path delay holding up the entire launch,” Mickey said darkly, staring John down from a near-vertical vantage point.

“Erm. Does ‘being the owner of the hardware’ count as a good reason?”

Hoisting himself up with a grunt, John clambered up onto the landing and held out his hand, wiggling his fingers and smiling innocently.

Mickey scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m Zachary Cross Flane. Hardware owner’s back at the ESA office, and if you aren’t out of the way for the technicians to install the biosensor in five minutes, I’ll be havin’ a word with your manager.”

John snorted, trying to stifle his incredulous laughter.

“I’ll thank you _not_ to call Harriet today, I’m trying _very_ hard to cause any more of a scene than I already have.”

“Oh my god-” Mickey whirled around to check the launch clock- “it’s Wednesday innit, you’re doctor-”

“-Smith, and I flew in a few hours ago, yep,” John finished, popping the p- “and I’ll take a guess you’re Mickey, the integration manager? One Mr. Harkness dropped me off down here, said there was a bit of a hang up with the read-out on the sensor optics, really it was just a minor hang-up in the data load variables, didn’t warrant quite this much fuss, and welllll... I thought it would be a nice change of pace to actually see some of my hardware up close. You can tell Jack he can get started on the fuel lines first thing tomorrow.”

Mickey pushed past John to look over the rail and down at the now-closed equipment hatch just above the base of the vehicle. Jabbing his finger in the same direction, he twisted to look back at John, mouth fumbling numbly with the words he was unable to find.

“The biosensor.”

“Mmm, the biosensor,” John responded calmly, crossing his arms over his chest, smirking despite his best attempts to keep a straight face.

“They said the software on that thing was going to take at least two more days to troubleshoot!”

John merely shrugged. “Oh, I’m very good.” He casually unclipped the harness and put away the tools he had been using.

“Mate, I should be writin’ you up for installing things without express permission, but I think for two days saved I owe you a drink. As long as you followed process-” Mickey glared at John, face scrunched into an intent squint- “you did follow process, yeah?”

“Mickey! Mick, Mick Mickety- I _wrote_ the process. All the paperwork is already stamped and in the file.”

The integration lead nodded his head a few times, mouth pursed and eyebrows raised in grudging admiration and surprise. John beamed back, then turned to make his way down the narrow stairs to the lab floor. He realized it seemed to be darker than it had been earlier, and quieter in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on. As he approached the desk, even the computer screen seemed brighter, bluer…

_The overhead lights,_ he realized, turning now to look at the windows lining the garage-door end of the building. The panes of glass hardly looked like windows anymore, but dazzling glowing beacons of pink and orange of the summer evening sky.

“You ought to pack it in, boss. Don’t want you fallin’ asleep at the wheel on the way to the hotel, ‘cuz I’m going to need you back here at 9’o’clock sharp for the integration debriefing tomorrow. I’m sure you’ve plenty to do, but save some time for us little blokes down here in the lab, yeah?”

“Oh, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” John nodded emphatically. “You heading off, then?”

“Yeah, the south gate usually closes in half an hour or so. If you’re headed to Port Canaveral or Cocoa Beach, you’d better run before someone sees you and finds you another assignment.”

“Speaking from experience, are we?” John chuckled ruefully.

“You ain’t seen the half of it, boss. Now bugger off, and use the same door you came in. I’d better not see you touchin’ anything else on the way out, either!”

Mickey watched as John meandered his way out of Highbay, clearly trying not to linger too long at any of the other test benches as Mickey had demanded. Once the doctor was well out of sight, Mickey stood for a moment in the empty room, tapping his finger against the desk while lost in thought, gaze unfocused. 

Several minutes passed while he debated quietly in his head. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and started a new email.

_Harriet - do you have time to talk tomorrow? 10 minute tag-up might be worth your time. Interesting development on critical path, we’re ahead of schedule now… you’ll never guess who._

~+~+~+~+~

A stunning display of hazy pinks and pastel purples greeted John’s tired eyes as he finally stepped out of the building. The rain-kissed breeze from a thunderstorm, now hours past, eased the weight of the grime from hours of travel and work, a breath of fresh air and renewed energy in the face of the final stretch to rest. Dreamily, he wondered if the sky had saved this brilliant sunset for his arrival, or if every day on this little island was this incredible.

The light barely faded as he wound his way down Merritt Island, through the dense tree thickets all along Courtenay, and across the massive arcing bridges crossing from the island to the city of Port Canaveral. 

It was charming, he thought, in a mundane, typical-rural-American kind of way. For a place he had never seen before, it had a pleasant air of familiarity and candor. Hotels and motels popped up every hundred meters along the main road, each with its own tourist shop - though they all seemed to sell the same pointless trinkets. Cozy little sports bars and strip mall restaurants stood side by side with sprawling petrol stations. Somewhere along the way, he could have sworn he saw a mini-golf course with actual alligators (but Floridians couldn't possibly be THAT mad, could they? It must have been the exhaustion playing tricks with his eyes.)

At long last, he found his hotel in Cocoa Beach - a multi-story, resort-style place, overgrown with palm trees and giant colorful rainforest plants. Thankfully, _this_ check-in was easy - NASA had essentially made all his arrangements - and within moments of closing the door to his room, John was sprawled across the bed, fast asleep, with one shoe still dangling from his foot.

His last thought before dozing off was relief that he had packed a spare suit and extra hair products - tomorrow was a day for repairing less-than-stellar first impressions. No conferences, no presentations, no unexpected important people to shake hands with. Just a chance to do his job well, and prove himself.

Naturally... he was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so much for reading, truly. If you enjoyed, please leave a comment! I love to talk about this topic and space exploration, and this chapter is so full of fun stuff (imho).
> 
> Huge round of applause for [SelenaTerna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaTerna/pseuds/SelenaTerna/) who spent SO much time helping me work on the little details and the voices. Without you, this would have never seen the light of day in a form I was truly happy with. You're a star! Thank you as well to [dd_wings_dd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dd_wings_dd/pseuds/dd_wings_dd) and [DoctorRoseTennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorRoseTennant/pseuds/DoctorRoseTennant) for sanity checking my spacecraft description :)
> 
> **The Real Science Behind the Fic**  
>  What does a Highbay look like? What's a crew hatch door? What the heck kind of spacecraft exist today that are like Harmony? [I've put together a looong post about all the inspiration/science here! (Tumblr)](https://galiifreywolf.tumblr.com/post/642446796499599360/2-the-science-behind-the-story-harmony-warning)  
> Just as an overview of what kind of cool pictures I've written about, here's a really good picture of the NASA Commercial Crew vehicles, which are a perfect example of what I was describing!  
> 


	4. Rockets and Mars Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all been so very patient with my slow, very scientific build up. Time to meet someone very special...
> 
> Listen Along!  
> 1\. [Forget Tomorrow - LAVIV Remix - Mighty Oaks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlslgJNgrM4)  
> 2\. [Pale Blue Dot - Adam Young (Voyager 1)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=miowNBQ4mq0)  
> 3\. [Europa - Adam Young (Voyager 1)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vNSFG4omMs)  
> Full Playlist [HERE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdZhlIKWGIE&list=PLeAqzMO0SBKoG5u-2WM71YASgNWqyikyz)

__**May 2061  
** **T-15 weeks to Harmony Launch  
** **Final Vehicle Integration**

The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when John jolted awake, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand. _How long was I out? Did I sleep through the alarm?_ The bright light of his rocket launch lock screen forced him to squint at the time stamp.

5:37 in the morning. Two and a half more hours before the world would be calling his name.

Biting, chilly air from the air conditioner wafted across the crisp white sheets of the bed where John was sprawled atop the covers. He burrowed his face back into the tower of fluffy pillows he’d shoved up against the headboard, taking another moment to let the weariness of travel bleed out into the cool mattress. For a blissful, quiet moment, he was content to simply float off into the world of half-dreams.

When his alarm finally did ring, the stale stiffness of his suit reminded him, to his chagrin, how he’d passed out before managing to wash up the night before. Groaning and rolling out of the bed, his tie, oxford, vest, and trousers unceremoniously met the floor, and John made his way to the shower.

“Oh, you are gorgeous, you are,” he rumbled, stepping under the pressurized stream of water pouring from the showerhead. Perhaps this hotel was a bit more posh than most work-sponsored venues, perhaps he was just still knackered, perhaps it was the sign of a good day to come.

~+~+~+~+~

In his travel-exhausted haze, John had hardly noticed the lavish luxury of the lobby on his way in. Tall bamboo plants lined the walls of a chic, open-plan restaurant. A modern, circular coffee bar served as the focal point of the rest of the dining area. At the very front of the room, elegant sectional couches and art deco chairs sat quietly, waiting patiently for the rest of the hotel’s residents to wake up.

John quietly approached the coffee bar and poked his head over the pastry case, searching for signs of life.

“Too early…?” he wondered aloud, casually strolling around the perimeter, tracing one hand along the countertop. As he came around the other side, he got a clear view of the concierge desk, where a middle-aged Black woman flipped through a flimsy paperback book. In a few long strides, John walked up to the front desk.

“Hello! Lovely morning, innit! Is the coffee bar open yet?”

The woman started and nearly dropped her book.

“Oh! Lord, the tourist season has got me too complacent, you business lot keep catching me off guard!” she chuckled, setting her book face down on the desk and nabbing her barista apron off the back of the chair.

“I’ll take a wild guess - Harmony?” the lady continued, striding over to the coffee bar. John kept pace, intrigued by her poise and commanding presence, not to mention the fact that she apparently ran every job in the lobby single-handedly.

“News must travel fast. Have that many people already arrived?”

“Oh, loads. Scruffy machinists, Armani-covered executives, kids who look like they should still be in school - quite the zoo to clean up after for a few weeks now. We’re supposed to be getting some welcome banners soon, I think,” she responded happily. “Coffee, dear?”

John rummaged around for his wallet (finding it buried under a small voltmeter, two electrical connectors, and four USB sticks) pulling out enough cash to tip 25 percent.

“Medium latte would be brilliant, ta,” he said, extended his hand across the bar counter. “I’m John, by the way.”

“I’m Ruth,” she replied, squeezing his hand with both of hers and smiling warmly. “Now, I’ve been here long enough to see some great events, but this one… you’re lucky to be here, John. It feels like something truly special. A bit more weight than the rest. I suppose it’s not every day the first crewed mission to the outer planets gets launched, after all.”

John hopped up onto one of the stools and leaned forward on his elbows, hands clasped tightly under his chin. He listened, enraptured, as Ruth set about telling stories and making his coffee with practiced ease. She recounted incredible anecdotes about the historic moments she had seen from right here at this tiny corner of Space Coast - the last Commercial Crew flight when she was just a new hire, the launch of Europa Schooner and the Neptune orbiter, even the establishment of Bowie Base One.

“Commander Brooke’s crew touched down around lunch hour, I’ll never forget it - every chair in this lobby was turned toward that little screen over there,” Ruth said, gesturing at the wall-mounted TV near the bar.

“Blimey, I knew there was a big turnout for Artemis back in the 30’s, and the Mars base I could have guessed, but everything in between, especially the little science missions - you really get visitors in town for all those?”

Ruth’s expression softened as she handed him his drink.

“You’ve never been to Cape Canaveral before, have you?”

John shook his head. “Never thought I’d get the chance, if I’m being honest. I’ve spent the last… oh, five years, doing research for Harmony - but getting put on onto the launch team? Ha! Competitive would be the understatement of the century. I reckon I just didn’t expect missions to be so widely publicized. For most expeditions it always seemed to be largely...” he waved his hand dismissively, “...out of the public interest, I suppose.”

“Oh, honey, welcome to a whole new world. Launches here are a community event like no other, in case you didn’t get the gist. That’s what makes this little port town so darn special. Just wait until you see this place come 5 o’clock,” she gestured at the rows of liquor hidden behind the cold brew tanks.

John felt a warmth bloom in his chest, easing a knot of worry he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying. It was only a few short hours into his first proper day in town, and already a sense of belonging surrounded him in the most unexpected way.

Ruth pulled out two banana-nut muffins from the pastry case, took off her apron, and came around to sit on the stool next to John.

“What’s your story, then?”

“Weellll, I’m no engineer. I’m no flight controller, either. Classic scientist, me - astrobiology and alien life, specifically. My kind of work tends to stay in the lab, never much reason to work with the spacecraft hardware or the launch team. Well, at least - until I published my dissertation on the life forms found on Europa, and suddenly the entire scientific community knew who I was.”

He straightened his tie and waggled his eyebrows, trying and failing to look pompous on purpose. “The ‘leading theory on non-carbon life forms,’ they called it. Really good for a man’s humility.”

Ruth threw back her head and laughed heartily for a few moments, shaking her head incredulously.

“So what changed, then? You’re definitely an escaped lab rat if you’re sitting here with me.”

He leaned in closer to speak a bit more quietly, even though his exuberance had not dimmed in the slightest.

“Oh, yes! Where it really got interesting was when NASA and the ESA offered me a grant to develop new types of sensors and instruments to fly on Harmony, to fill in the missing puzzle pieces on what we know about the life forms on Europa. I finished my other degrees in engineering and mission operations, spent some time tinkering, secured a few patents… and then last month, the call came in that they wanted me here on-site, as resident expert for all the biology equipment. I mean, blimey, I’ve never even seen a launch in person!”

“Well, then you are in for a real treat, Doctor John Smith. Sounds like you’ve got the project of a lifetime on your hands. I--”

Ruth stopped short as a very annoyed-looking man in a suit came out from the back room, scanning the empty lobby.

“That’d be my manager, so I’d best not be caught sitting here with you, but I’m sure I’ll see you around plenty over the next few months. You just let me know if you need a darn thing, sweetheart!”

~+~+~+~+~

The winding, twisting roads of Cape Canaveral seemed to reveal new secrets in the bright light of a new day, little quirks that John had missed before. Creaky drawbridges waltzed with slow sailboats along the river while eagles stood sentinel in treetops. Just outside the perimeter of NASA itself, a mechanic shop billboard bragged that they had once serviced all of Neil Armstrong’s cars.

The sheer excitement John felt as he drove past the VAB burned as brightly as it had yesterday, perhaps even more fervently with the promise of a new day’s adventures.

Yet despite the sheer magnificence of it all, by the time John had listened through Mickey’s morning debriefing, picked up his now-repaired laptop, and settled in at his desk, he realized it truly was just another normal day doing the same job he’d done for years. With a sigh, he opted for a cup of tea from the cafeteria and started a new iteration of the mass spectrometer simulations due for final review at the end of the week.

If not for his growling stomach, he might have been content to plug away at his code all day, but at the five hour mark, he had to admit defeat. Without looking away from the simulation results, he reached up onto the shelf beside him for his…

His lunchbox. That he didn’t have. The one that he brought to the ESA office and forgot to pack for this trip.

 _Just an excuse to get away for a bit,_ he grinned to himself, pushing away from his desk vigorously, sending himself rolling down the aisle of desks to where Martha was absorbed in her music and spreadsheet.

“Martha,” he drawled, “any recommendations on where to get a bite to eat?”

Martha tugged off her headset, spinning in her chair to face him.

“You know, you’re easier to ignore when you’re just a little instant message box in the corner of my screen,” she mock-complained, amusement tugging at the corners of her mouth. “There isn’t much on site, if I’m being honest. Food trucks only come on Mondays and Fridays, so today you’re stuck with vending machines, or the visitor complex cafeteria just up the road.”

John raised his eyebrow, a sparkle in his eye.

“Visitor complex? You mean there’s more than the one at the entrance?”

“Hang on, I’ll just--” she turned back to the computer, pulled up a set of files called ‘new hire,’ and opened a site map.

“So we’re down here, yeah?” she said, gesturing at the VAB, “if you just follow the road up around the curve, there’s another building off to the right. Can’t miss it - really long, bright blue front face, ‘tourist’ written all over it”

Squinting, John could just make out the words “Saturn V” printed on Martha’s amusement-park-style map just above the building in question. Suddenly, the bubbling excitement returned to his chest.

“Saturn Five?!” he squeaked, “You mean to tell me they’ve got _more spacecraft_ up the road?”

Martha leaned back in her chair and chuckled, “John, you have no idea. This place is exactly your little personal slice of heaven. I’ll see who else on the team wants to do the tour again and we’ll go one of these weekends. For now, you’ve got a lunch date with a rocket.”

~+~+~+~+~

The enormous white and turquoise building was even easier to find than Martha had described; standing at nearly 3 stories tall and 200 meters long, it dominated the flat green landscape around it. Perfectly-manicured trees and regal bronze statues adorned the sides of the walkway, and several bus-loads of tourists flowed in and out the front doors.

John joined the throng of people, allowing the crowd to push him in the right direction so he could admire the structure. The sunlight glinted off the tall windows, illuminating the Apollo mission logo in a way that reminded John of the stained glass in York Minster - and hid the exhibits inside.

When John stepped across the threshold and into the exhibit, he stopped dead in his tracks, paying no heed to the disgruntled tourists behind him. At eye-level, strong blue metal supports rose out of the floor. His gaze was led up, up, and still farther up to a gargantuan corrugated black and white cylinder.

 _No, it can’t be,_ John thought wildly as he skipped backwards a few paces, trying to get out of the flow of people and open up his field of vision.

But it was.

Above his head was the last of the great Saturn V rockets. John had to almost bend backwards, neck craned as far back as it would go, to see the blackened engine nozzles directly above his head. Each of the massive cone-shaped engines spanned nearly 4 meters in diameter. The multi-colored striations left by superheated liquid oxygen and kerosene still stained the inside of the chamber, serving as a vivid reminder of the sheer power this vehicle once held. With shaking hands, John pulled his phone from his back pocket, clumsily opening the camera feature to snap a photo. The wide angle of the lens hardly captured the sheer immensity of the rocket that stretched the length of the building, all the way to the vanishing point.

The cafeteria was about halfway down the long building, and John wandered only vaguely in the correct direction, flitting from exhibit to exhibit. Meandering became sprinting when John caught a glimpse of the Apollo 14 capsule, which was standing proudly under multi-colored spotlights in a dedicated alcove.

“Oh, you are _gorgeous_ , I’ve got chills!” he whispered gleefully, pulling out his glasses to get a better look at the open capsule hatch. He danced around the spaceship, leaning to investigate with his whole body, squinting to admire every minute detail - the scars of the re-entry flames, the flaky ash coated to the heat shields, the tiny frosted windows to look out upon the universe. He knew he could spend hours here and never be satisfied.

The energy in the room shifted while John delighted in his inspection of the intricate latch drivetrain inside the capsule hatch. A few technicians started setting up studio-grade video cameras, while others carefully propped up retractable banner-stands emblazoned with the deep reds and sharp golds of the Mars Cooperative Initiative.

The lights dimmed, the crowd quieted, and all attention turned to the two people with microphones at the center of the interview set.

A clearly over-caffeinated man in a black HyperspaceX baseball cap and multi-colored tee shirt broke the silence with a loud, excited welcome message to the camera. Startled, John poked his head above the hatch to get a better look.

“Hey everyone! Local Martian here, bringing you to another beautiful day at Kennedy Space Center and catching the latest scoop on everything up-and-coming at NASA,” he narrated passionately. “We’ve got Rose Tyler here with us today to dig into the details of the new discovery at Bowie Base One. So, Rose - first of all, thank you again for making the time to talk with us today - what got everyone in NASA’s astrobiology lab so excited this week?”

“S’my pleasure, Tom! This is an exciting bit of history, to say the least. Our team in Houston has been re-examining some of the samples from the Europa Schooner mission, which picked up the first an’ only alien life samples from Jupiter’s moon back in 2051. The interesting thing now, is comparing these samples to what Captain Brooke’s recon team found at the Martian south pole region earlier this week…”

As Rose continued explaining the new alien life news, John quietly shifted out from behind the Apollo capsule to get a better look at the broadcast set.

The air rushed out of his lungs, as though he’d been tossed back into space with the capsules scattered around the room.

This NASA correspondent was not at all what John had expected. She was vibrance incarnate, with rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes, and a blinding, beautiful smile framed by pink lipstick. She looked so young and casual, for someone so well-versed on the Mars expedition. Her golden-blonde hair hung in a loose, messy bun, and her chunky-knit sweater had dozens of mission patches safety-pinned to the sleeves - a far cry from the typical blazers and pencil skirts most media representatives wore. Beyond that, she radiated a warmth that very few PR agents could manage, and it showed in her every movement, her enthusiastic banter, and boundless curiosity while chatting with the reporter.

A new emotion began to worm its way into John’s already-overflowing heart.

“...so now Houston is just waiting to see if Dr. Smith’s hypothesis about silicon-based life forms are, in fact, as prevalent as we think. ‘Course, once Harmony gets back to Europa in a few years, we’ll have our hands full!” Rose finished, while Tom mimed his head exploding with his hands.

Reality started to seep back into John’s fuzzy brain. Had she said...?

“Well, Rose, I can’t say it enough, thank you so much for your time today. And to y’all out there on the web, don’t forget to like and subscribe, we’ll be bringing you more like this all summer!”

Tom and Rose waved at the camera until they got the ‘cameras off’ thumbs-up. The spotlights dimmed, the rest of the room sprung back out of shadow, and tourists began chattering again around the exhibits.

John darted between the visitors, trying desperately to reach Rose and Tom before they vanished back into the crowd. The soft ping of his watch reminded him that lunch hour was rapidly slipping away, but something about this particular moment seemed special, as though fixed in time and space.

He caught Rose just on the other side of the main doors, under the old Lunar Command Module hanging from the ceiling.

“You alright there, mate?”

“Never better, fantastic, just brilliant! Great interview back there, truly fascinating stuff,” John babbled, beaming so much it hurt his face.

“Riiight. And - sorry, are you a reporter?” Rose smiled brightly, but it was all business pleasantry - the way she squinted a bit at him belied confusion and apprehension.

“Oh! Sorry, so so sorry - I’m John. John Smith. Just arrived for the Harmony launch - well, yesterday - well, not really sure exactly, a bit tiring to keep track of time zones on overseas flights - well, one sea, that is,” he trailed off.

He did not at all expect annoyance to be the chief emotion on Rose’s face.

“Hang on. You can’t honestly expect me to believe that _you’re_ Dr. John Smith. I’ve had my fair share of odd blokes comin’ up to me after reports, but you ought to be given a medal for being this arrogant.”

“But I am!” John yelped, tugging his NASA lanyard with his badge out from under his jacket. “See? Astrobiology and flight instrumentation. I’m just here for a few months, see her up into orbit, then… back home, I suppose.”

For a moment, John truly feared that she was going to smack him, the way she bit her lower lip and rocked back and forth on her heels.

“Hang on, I--” John fumbled around with his suit jacket to tug out his employee badge, pulling it off his neck clumsily. He tried not to look desperate in his sincerity as he handed her the badge so she could take a better look.

Within seconds, Rose’s apprehension gave way to incredulous laughter, and she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye with her sweater sleeve.

“Now I feel terrible! S’nice to meet you John, truly, I just - I meet a lot of people, doin’ this job, but every now and again some people seem a bit too impossible!”

“Oh, I like impossible,” he rumbled, a bit of mischief laced in his low voice.

Rose blushed and stammered for a moment.

“I don’t want to bother you though, I’m sure you’ve got plenty more important things to be attending to, bein’ well - you.”

“Nah, none of that, eh? Behind all those academic papers I’m really no different than anyone else here. All reaching for the stars together,” John winked, channeling his overflowing energy into his legs, leaning side to side.

He tugged at his ear and continued, words tumbling out in a rush, “Fancy a bite to eat? I’m really supposed to be back at the office by now, but what is time, really? Don’t know if my team would be happy with me arguing in favor of relativity, over a long lunch hour, but anything is worth trying once.”

~+~+~+~+~

Rose and John cheerfully settled in at one of the tiny food court tables near the buffet. Plates piled high with pizza and salad, the two leaned in close to hear each other over the din of students talking, parents teaching children, and the semi-regular loudspeaker announcement of the next tour leaving.

“So, I guess you’re part of the famed media team that makes us scientists look a bit less loony?” John inquired. He took a long sip of his soda, earnest chocolate eyes fixed on Rose’s.

“You say it like it’s hard! You wouldn’t believe the public response for missions like these. Everyone loves a good space exploration story around here. I just report the details between people like you and, well, people like Tom - reporters, bloggers, anyone who will help us keep encouraging people to join the cause.”

John’s curiosity piqued again - he was finding it did that a lot, since he’d arrived here.

“The cause?”

“Mmm, inspiring the next generation, getting the community involved, all that,” Rose mumbled through her bite of pizza.

“Rose Tyler,” he beamed, letting her name roll off his tongue slowly, “defender of NASA’s future. You’re brilliant, you are.”

“S’nothing, really - I mean, you’re the leading astrobiologist on Harmony for Pete’s sake, I’m hardly important in the grand scheme of things.”

“Who says you’re not important?” John asked, incredulous. In a moment of boldness, he reached across and took her hand gently. “Keeping the entire world informed about the wonders that lie beyond? Teaching the human race about the beauty of space? That, THAT is a noble endeavor, Rose. Keeping all our eyes to the sky.”

As the words slipped past his lips, John felt like he’d found a piece of a puzzle. Trouble was, he didn’t realize he’d been working on a puzzle, nor did he know what the picture was supposed to be.

“Thanks,” Rose said gratefully, “it’s hard, sometimes, when everyone you work with is so much farther into their careers, and so well known, y’know? I’m lucky, really, to be here doing this. I only just graduated from uni two years ago. Started with the ESA back in the Oxfordshire office, but kept begging for a chance to see Space Coast, so… here I am.”

“Last year?! Oxfordshire?! It really is a small world, isn’t it - you probably already knew I’m based at the London office” John crowed. He’d long finished his lunch by now, and as much as he didn’t want their impromptu… whatever this was to end, he knew he had to be getting back to the office.

“No, absolutely not, you’re mad! Really?”

“Honestly! Really, Rose, after my nearly-botched introduction, you think I would lie now?”

The tongue-touched grin that statement had earned him was going to keep him distracted for the rest of the day, if not the entire week - and it took every ounce of effort to pull himself away as his watch chimed again.

“Listen, I could run my gob all day, left unchecked, but I know we’ve both got places to be, so… I’m sure I’ll see you around?”

Rose nodded, a bit of the glow fading from her face as she realized the moment had to come to and end, too. They cleared their trays, John scrawled his phone number on the spare napkin, and each departed to opposite ends of the enormous hall with a bigger spring in their steps.

The rest of the day, John mulled over their conversation, and the odd emotion that danced at the edge of his thoughts. What was it about Rose, what she had said, that had caught him so off guard? She’d managed to re-affirm, yet simultaneously undermine, everything he knew about working this mission - about working on _any_ mission, for that matter.

Ever since he had arrived, John had felt tiny, a speck in the annals of the great history written in these skies. He thought he had understood why he felt that way, when he saw the signatures of each famous astronaut on the painting in the lobby - that he was simply one of many chasing the dream, and should feel lucky to walk such hallowed ground.

Now, he wasn’t so sure that was the only reason why.

That night, John drifted to sleep without answers, only a burning desire to see Rose again, and unravel this mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would absolutely be LOST without [Cal's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darundik/pseuds/darundik) amazing story development, theme scheming, and beta-ing. Thank you for helping this come to life in the way I'd dreamed.
> 
> As with a lot of this story, this chapter in particular is extremely near and dear to my heart. It's a joy to tell the story of John putting this puzzle together. I hope you're enjoying, and please if you do, leave a comment!! Even if just your favorite part or keysmashing, it means more to me than words.
> 
>  **The Science Behind the Story**  
>  Curious to see more about this cool venue that John and Rose are in? [Check out my new Tumblr post here!](https://galiifreywolf.tumblr.com/post/643060126628134912/4-the-science-behind-the-story-rockets-and-mars)  
> 


	5. The Promise of Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose's life is about to get very, very interesting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long! I literally re-wrote it 9 times to get it the way I wanted, and my job is always very hectic this time of year. I'll try and avoid another month-long hiatus! Also, any typos/little mistakes are all my fault, I am far too eager to simply publish at this point.
> 
> ~Listen Along~  
> 1\. [Fate - Brynny, Stevyn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8jXFRoe5FY)  
> 2\. [If Elephants Could Fly - Marcus Warner](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQ2UebaML0M)  
> 3\. [Wheels Down - Adam Young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7HqG7cLY8k)
> 
> [Full playlist (for the whole fic) is on YouTube!](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLeAqzMO0SBKoG5u-2WM71YASgNWqyikyz)

**May 2061  
T-14 weeks to Harmony Launch  
Final Vehicle Integration**

Rose wondered if she had walked over every centimeter of the tiny huddle room’s floor by now. An hour of pacing back and forth tended to have that effect.

Adelaide. _Captain_ Adelaide. _Captain Bloody Adelaide Brooke_ wanted to speak with her.

To get a master’s degree in space media communication, you had to be tough. To get one with high honors and immediately secure a full-time position working for NASA-ESA on deep space operations, you needed to have nerves of steel.

But even steel has a resonant frequency at which it tends to vibrate out of control - and Rose may just have found it.

Everyone, especially interviewers, loved to ask Rose about the famous Bowie Base One captain and what it was like to work with her. The truth of the matter though - not that it was very surprising - was that Adelaide Brooke had little time for press briefings or media discussions. Most day-to-day correspondence came through Steffi and Mia, the two technical leads on the Mars base.

Adelaide might know who she was - media was a key part of the team, after all - but any interaction between them was always little more than coworker pleasantries.

So why on Earth - or Mars, for that matter - had Adelaide had asked to set up a meeting to discuss Rose’s future plans?

Rose groaned and chewed on the edge of her pen. She had been given enough time to prepare, really. Adelaide’s meeting request had come in nearly a month ago. Regardless, at this stage in her career she really should have had some semblance of a five-year career plan for just such an occasion anyway. As a young professional it seemed like the question was always hiding around a corner, waiting to pounce - _what are your long-term goals?_

Yet whenever she had sat down and attempted to make any headway on the task, she had little to show except for idle scribbles in the margin of her paper.

It was too easy to get lost in the day-to-day excitement of new discoveries; to live in the moment and push big decisions out to next month, then the month after. So easy to forget that all contracts came to an end. That within another year or two, Bowie Base One operations would be routine, and full-time news coverage would no longer be part of the budget. No space left for her.

The meeting notice flashed in Rose’s periphery - only twenty minutes left to think of something.

Panic rising in her chest, Rose flipped back to the first few pages of her notebook to where she’d jotted down a few wise words from her academic advisor, Professor Wilfred, that he had given her for just this sort of situation.

_~ Go for specifics - types of assignments and experiences.  
~ Think of the kinds of media you’ve tried, such as live reporting versus written journalism  
~ Steer towards what you love.  
~ Is there a certain kind of technology you want to specialize in, or learn more about?_

She’d be lying if meeting Dr. Smith the previous week hadn’t been immensely distracting, too. If she’d thought making headway on any semblance of a career plan had been hard before, it was now borderline impossible. Whenever she tried to think of which other mission groups might be willing to hire her after her Bowie Base One assignment ended, all her trains of thought ended up looking awfully similar to reporting on John’s astrobiology research.

She knew better than to abruptly jump into something new just for the sake of a handsome bloke, but… a specialty in astrobiology-related media wasn’t the _worst_ idea to throw out onto the table, was it? He _was_ a renowned name in the field after all - if anything, keeping pace with his research and the Harmony mission would put her right where she wanted to be for long-term career prospects.

Or at least, that’s what she desperately tried to tell herself as the clock ticked onward.

Unable to contain her nervous energy anymore, Rose took to scribbling any idea that came to mind on the whiteboard. _Outer-system exploration missions. Crewed flight missions. University media and student outreach. Diversify media styles - try something new. Think BIGGER, Rose! Social media manager? Start a podcast?_

She capped the marker and huffed a heavy sigh, one hand on her hip, the other on the table, fingers drumming rapidly.

One minute.

_What time was it on Mars again?_

Another mental calculation.

One last scribble on the bubble-thought chart.

_Astrobiology - Dr. Smith Hypothesis._

She smoothed back her hair, straightened her blouse, and sat back down at the head of the table. It was all a rushed attempt to look as though she just hadn’t been running back and forth across the room as the telecon screen blazed to life. Waving cheerily was the best mask she could think of in that split-second.

“Hi Captain Brooke, it’s lovely to see you, happy almost-Martian-Friday!”

The usually-severe captain beamed back, her hand pixelating slightly as she waved back from Mars.

“And good morning to you too, Rose! I’m sure things are as hectic on your end as they are here, with the new data coming in. Mia and Roman have been placing bets on which news outlet will be the first to challenge you, actually. Seems that you’ve got a knack for answering questions before the critics can even think up a counterpoint.”

Rose, with no small amount of relief, felt her fake-it-till-you-make it smile turn genuine.

“It’s nothin’ really, ‘s too easy when everything is brand new like this!”

“Now, don’t sell yourself short, keeping up with a quickly-developing mission like this is trickier than you realize. Those blasted reporters are like hyenas. You ought to be proud of your work as our Earth counterpart - I know I am.”

Rose opened and closed her mouth a few times, Adelaide’s words hanging heavily in the air between them. The captain clasped her hands patiently, her expression unreadable. Rose figured she must be scrutinizing her every move. Rarely was the young reporter caught without words, but then again, rarely was she face to face with a living legend.

“Blimey, thanks,” was all she managed to muster after what felt like an eternity.

Surprising her, Adelaide smiled knowingly, and relaxed a bit back in her chair. The sharp edges of her commanding presence seemed to soften just slightly.

“Nearly twenty years ago, after returning from the very first Mars expedition, I had to do quite a bit of campaigning to each space agency in order to make Bowie Base One a reality. To me, it felt as easy as breathing, to talk about something I loved, to take an active role in making that hope a reality. I didn’t believe my team leaders when they expressed how impressed they were.”

She sighed wistfully, before continuing, “So believe me when I say, Rose, I know how you must feel right now, working on a program like this at such a young age. You deserve to be reminded of your worth.”

“That’s… is that why you wanted to talk?” Rose responded hesitantly, every gear in her head spinning at top speed.

“You and I both know that, unfortunately, before too long Bowie Base One will not be headlining the news quite as consistently, and the team will be downsized.”

Rose nodded dejectedly. She had feared the conversation might take this turn, but not quite this soon.

“Don’t look too disappointed, dear. I see great potential in you. The work you’ve done for this mission is of a caliber rarely seen at your level. That is why I had asked you to put together a rough outline of your career goals, to perhaps start that conversation within the agency and put you in contact with the right people.”

Rose was going to get whiplash from the switchbacks this conversation kept taking. Dumbfounded, she snagged her notebook and stared down at her little page of notes. Nothing felt cohesive enough or well-developed to offer up to someone so renowned. With all her might, Rose pushed her imposter syndrome back down, praying that her gut feeling was enough.

“I think - as far as media styles at least, I don’t want to be limited to just one type of outlet. I love talking with people in front of the camera as much as the more detailed articles. I suppose--” she glanced up at the white board, where astrobiology was hastily scribbled in bigger text than the other items -- “maybe I could focus a bit more on alien life, as a specialty? I’ve really enjoyed talkin’ about it lately. It’d be a bit unique, to say the least, but…” she trailed off as self-consciousness got the better of her.

Adelaide’s expression shifted, something mysterious and smug creeping in.

“How does your calendar look tomorrow morning?”

Rose flicked over from the video call back to her email, scanning through the pile of meeting notices on the screen. Perhaps it was a stroke of luck, perhaps it was fate, but tomorrow’s schedule was blessedly free.

“Nothing except a tag-up with the social media team at the very end of the day!”

“Excellent. Then Rose… I think there might be a program meeting you should attend.”

+~+~+~+~+~+

The next morning, Rose sheltered her coffee against her chest as she gently pushed her way into the throng of meeting attendees. The gravitas of the conference room she had arrived at was not lost on her. Rich oak double-doors lined the massive entryway and curved plasma-projection screens covered every remaining bit of wall space. The windows at the back of the room offered a panoramic view of Highbay several stories below, where bunny-suited technicians moved around like little marshmallows in a LEGO diorama.

She was fifteen minutes early, but the room was already nearing capacity - and an undercurrent of joyous electricity seemed to weave its way through the air. Polos from every major spaceflight organization around the globe transformed the sea of people into a moving, laughing rainbow. A few technicians were making their way around to several people in neatly-pressed suits, hugging each other with all the fervor of a long-overdue family reunion. Two older women in lab coats stood arm in arm, pressed tightly to each other, clearly trying to hold back tears.

 _Some of them have never seen each other in person before, after all these years,_ Rose realized, as tears welled up in her own eyes, completely unbidden.

This program was the most ambitious international expedition ever dreamed, after all.

Rose felt her nervous tension ease a bit as a few familiar faces started to appear amongst the stragglers - Jack Harkness from Propulsion, Danny Bartock from Operations, Martha Jones from Crew Operations, and Gwen Cooper from Electrical. Her moment of relaxation was short, though; as she finished scanning the crowd, she swore she caught a glimpse of Dr. Smith’s perfectly-tousled hair poking up from behind some engineers near the front of the room. She inhaled sharply - she hadn’t dared hope she would see him again so soon.

Loud discussion died down into secretive whispers. Feet tapped, pens clicked, and phones pinged softly with meeting reminders. The entire room held its breath as a smartly-dressed woman in a pastel pink blazer and pearls strode through the room to the helm of the table, planted her hands authoritatively, and leaned forward with a smile.

“Harriet Jones, Harmony project manager. Welcome aboard, team, the future awaits!”

An enthusiastic murmur rippled through the attendance ( _yes, of course I know who she is!_ ). The hour had finally arrived - everyone all gathered together in one room, one shared goal, one task at hand - to prepare for the launch of the first crewed mission to the outer planets.

Murmurs turned to incredulous whispers turned to cheers when the doors creaked open again. Pushing herself up on the sill of the large windows, Rose struggled to peer over the sea of heads, only catching glimpses of orange and white as three more people entered the room.

“Might I introduce you all to Captain Zachary Crossflame, Senior Engineer Ida Scott, and Flight Officer Scarlett “Scooti” Manista, the crew of Harmony Expedition,” Harriet stepped back and held out a hand to give the astronauts the floor, even as the cheers continued for minutes to come.

Ida stepped forward, smiling warmly and gesturing for everyone to be silent again.

“We are a few short months from stepping out into the outer rings of our solar system, to continue the quest for first alien contact that Clipper and Schooner started. We know what wonders must wait for us on Europa. This venture will revolutionize modern science, help us unravel mysteries we don’t even know exist yet, and tell us new stories - perhaps from before the human race had even learned to walk.”

The woman paused, her voice breaking slightly, before squaring her shoulders and continuing.

“It is the honor of a lifetime to be flying with you all. This goal isn’t possible without those willing to dream - you.”

The room exploded into cheers and conversation as the three astronauts made themselves comfortable at the front of the table. Meanwhile, Harriet rose from her seat again, clicking to the first page of her slideshow.

“Alright now, we’ve got a very short road to launch, and lots to get done. With only a few months to go, the timeline…”

Two hours and a hundred slides later, Rose squeezed her last few notes into the margin of her very last notebook page. The catering arrived, the fatigue of the meeting began to lift, and cheery discussion sprung up once more. Rose ran to get in the queue for sandwiches; her stomach had been too twisted in nervous knots all morning to eat breakfast.

“Nibbles! Oh I love nibbles,” a gleeful, familiar voice said behind Rose from somewhere in the other lunch queue. She bit her lip in excitement and slowly spun around to find John plucking several tiny cupcakes off a Saturn-shaped platter.

He abruptly stepped away from the table, and nearly knocked the food off Rose’s plate.

“Sorry, so sorry, wasn’t quite looking--” he started immediately, as though this was something he said frequently, but cut himself short when he realized whom he was standing mere inches from.

For a moment Rose felt an urge to run, or implode, or both; Dr. Smith looked positively awestruck by her presence in a way that made Rose feel tiny. His gaze seemed softer than when they’d first met, his smile ever more dazzling. She hardly got to meet his eyes for more than a second before she was pushed aside by the queue - but the depth of something unspoken she glimpsed there had her captivated.

“Rose! You’ve - what are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining, quite the opposite, but --”

He gently pulled her away from the table to find a quieter corner, visibly eager to figure out why she was here.

“Would you believe me if I said Captain Brooke pulled some strings, so now I get to do a bit of work on _both_ missions?” she gushed. No words could capture the fireworks Rose felt inside her chest, finally getting to tell someone - especially him - the news of her new assignment.

“Adelaide you gem. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. You, Rose Tyler, are going to love this group, top notch, cream of the crop, I’m lost without them! Oh, we are so lucky to have you and your superb reporting skills joining us.”

A dark pink spread across Rose’s cheeks.

“Not sure if ‘superb’ would be the way I’d describe it, but ‘m lucky to be here, really I am, this is…”

“A dream come true?” he offered, ducking down to speak more quietly, a bit of shyness creeping into his voice.

“...yeah, it is, honestly,” she said quietly, stepping a bit closer. The conversation suddenly felt oddly private, as though they were children swapping secrets behind their parents’ backs.

“Feels a bit daft, really - s’just work, just another project, but I dunno. _Europa_. The first alien life. I never even considered this as an option ‘til Adelaide asked to talk. It almost doesn’t seem real, you know? A mission like this - it feels like pure fiction, but here we all are, talkin’ about it like it’s nothin’!”

“Oh, better than you realize,” he replied earnestly, eyes locked on hers. A minute ago, Rose thought perhaps she had imagined the intensity in his gaze - this second time around, she knew there was no denying it. It was as though he wasn’t just looking at her, but _into_ her, as though he was trying to get her to tell him a secret.

Yet in a flash, it was gone, that mysterious look in his eye, and he was simply the cheery, easy-going scientist she’d met last week. In fact, he was not looking at her anymore at all, but instead over her shoulder with barely-contained glee.

“Rose,” he whispered, “not to interrupt, but I think there’s some introductions in order.”

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders (did this man have any concept of personal space?) and spun her slowly around to come face to face with one Ida Scott.

“Miss Tyler, I’d like to introduce you to our very own space engineering expert, Ida Scott. And Ida, this is Rose, our new media aficionado.”

Rose could hardly breathe. A virtual meeting with an astronaut had been one thing; there was always a feeling of extra security, to speak to someone from behind a screen where they couldn’t see your every movement, or read your expression too closely. Rose had always figured it felt much the same as watching someone on the telly - that they were somewhat fictional, distant.

Here, standing face to face - Ida almost looked too human, too normal. Some split ends in her hair, some creases around her smile that you’d never see from afar. She was shorter than Rose might have guessed - only a few centimeters taller than herself. Yet she simultaneously seemed larger than life in a way that no photo could ever hope to capture.

Ida held out her hand, smiling earnestly. Rose took it wordlessly, her own smile becoming painful.

“Happy to have you on the team, Rose. I know I speak for the whole crew when I say we’re grateful to everyone’s hard work, so thank you for all your time and dedication.”

John squeezed her shoulders before stepping forward beside her. In the starstruck moment, Rose had entirely forgotten he was still standing so very close.

“The pleasure is all ours Ida. Don’t want to keep you though, very important astronaut business to attend to I’m sure,” he said with a wink, clearly at total ease.

Ida chuckled, looking up at the ceiling as she considered how to respond. “If by ‘important astronaut business’ you mean we have to go make small talk with a dozen more executives today, then yes.”

As Rose watched the two of them chat, she had the jarring realization that she was speaking with not one, but _two_ extremely famous space scientists. Despite only having met John last week, he already felt so much more approachable, so much different than anyone else she’d met of similar fame.

“Besides! We have a spacecraft to attend to down in the lab, don’t we Rose?”

Startled out of her thoughts, Rose turned slightly to look at him incredulously.

“We do?”

“Never a dull day with Dr. John Smith, I’ve heard,” Ida teased. “I’ll leave you to it, then. It seems like Zach and Scooti are leaving me behind for the next meeting, so I’d best be off!”

The meeting had long since ended, and the conference room was nearly empty. Only a handful of engineers remained, still discussing details of Harriet’s presentation. Rose was painfully aware of how alone she was with the doctor, and how much her heart was racing.

It took Rose a few moments to even find her voice again.

“That was kind of you John but I’d hate to keep you, ‘m sure you’ve got loads to do,” Rose said hesitantly.

“Nah, this is all pomp and circumstance up here. Always a room for a bit of fun and mischief, hmm? I think it’s about time you came down to Highbay, spend some time in the loony bin with the rest of us.”

He said _the rest of us,_ but she hoped that gleam in his eye actually meant _with me._

Without warning, his hand shot out to find hers, and he tugged her out of her thoughts and eagerly towards the exit.

“Run!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I packed a lot of my Spaceflight Feels into this chapter - especially with getting the whole team in one place, and meeting Ida! I hope you enjoyed, I really did have fun writing it (even if it was me vs. the muse a lot of the time). If you did, please leave a comment! It truly means so much to me.
> 
> I am beyond lucky to have had so much help from so many people I admire on this one - [Saecookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saecookie/pseuds/Saecookie), [Vanalosswen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanalosswen/pseuds/Vanalosswen), [MegaBadBunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaBadBunny/pseuds/MegaBadBunny), [Darundik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darundik/pseuds/darundik), and my incredible partner. Thank you all for making this actually work the way I always wanted, and thank you for your patience while I beat my head against the proverbial wall. You all teach me so much, and I'm so damn lucky to call you my friends.
> 
>  **The Real Science Behind the Fic**  
>  So what's the deal with alien life and Europa? Why did I pick this mission? I'm glad you asked! [Read more about NASA's real endeavors to our outer planets in my latest Tumblr post!](https://galiifreywolf.tumblr.com/post/645689515782078464/5-the-science-behind-the-story-the-promise-of)


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